Hell, he was still following Don Jarrod’s edicts even after the man was in his grave. So Christian’s life had now come to the point where a dead man was controlling his actions.
Was he really going to allow this to continue? Could he really risk losing the only woman who’d ever gotten under his guard?
Would he give up his future to assuage his past?
Furious with himself and the whole damn situation, Christian turned to go, but stopped when Trevor spoke up again.
“What’s eating at you, man? You’ve been terrorizing the staff and me for the last couple of days.”
Yeah, he had. Wrestling with your demons didn’t make for a good time and there were bound to be innocent bystanders caught up in the fight. But Trevor wasn’t his enemy and it’d be best to remember that.
Christian looked back at his friend and said, “I’ve got some things on my mind, that’s all.”
“Want to talk about it?”
“Not really,” he said. He had to get things sorted out for himself before he could speak to any of the Jarrods about this.
Trevor stared at him, then nodded. “All right. I figure a man’s entitled to his secrets. But if you change your mind, I’m here.”
“Appreciate it.” And he did. He had friends here, Christian knew that. What he didn’t have was Erica. “I’ll see you later.”
Blake walked in the door almost at the same instant and jumped out of the way before Christian could crash right into him. “What’s his deal?”
“I don’t know. He won’t say. Clearly something’s bugging him though.” Trevor sat down at his desk, ready to dive into the paperwork again.
“I know how he feels,” Blake said.
The tone of his voice more than anything else had Trevor looking up. “Why? What’s wrong?”
“Not sure. But I just saw Melissa with Shane McDermott. They looked…cozy. Have you heard anything?”
Trevor leaned back in his desk chair. “No. But if our friendly neighborhood rancher is interested in our little sister, I suggest we keep an eye on things.”
“Just what I was thinking,” Blake agreed.
Three days holed up in her old condo in San Francisco and Erica was no closer to knowing what to do than she had been when she arrived. She’d cried herself silly for the first several hours until her sorrow had faded into fury. Anger was so much easier to deal with.
Erica stood up and moved to the balcony off her living room. She had a view of the bay and the Golden Gate Bridge and she’d spent most of her days with the sliding glass door open to let in the frigid wind blowing in off the ocean.
After so much time in Colorado, with the sky so wide and open and so much space around her, she felt…caged in the very home she’d once loved so much.
Strange. She’d only been gone three weeks but this place no longer felt like home. She looked at the soft, pastel paintings on the walls and couldn’t figure out what she’d seen in them. She wasn’t the same woman who had lived here. She’d changed. Grown. She’d reshaped her life to suit the woman she’d become.
Now Erica knew what it was to finally find her place. She had discovered what it was like to love someone and lose. She knew what it was to go on with your heart breaking and not have a clue what to do next.
She’d found more than a home in Colorado.
She’d found herself. And the woman she was today needed answers to questions she was no longer afraid to ask. She hadn’t run from Christian; she’d run toward her past. After leaving him at the river, Erica had realized that she couldn’t enjoy a future without first dealing with her past. And so she’d come back to San Francisco. To tie up the loose ends of her life so that she could return to the place she belonged.
Okay, yes, she hadn’t immediately gone to face her father. But she was going to. She’d simply needed a few days to sort out her own feelings. That didn’t mean she was turning tail and running. And she certainly wasn’t going to hide here in a condo that wasn’t really hers anymore.
She was going back.
Just as soon as she found what she needed to know.
Ten
The very next morning Erica marched into her father’s office and faced him, for the first time not as his daughter, but as an adult who demanded respect.
“Erica,” Walter said, standing up and moving out from behind his desk. “You didn’t tell me you were com ing.”
“No.” She studied his familiar features and saw with surprise that he looked older than she remembered. And not as intimidating, either. Was it her imagination? she wondered. Or was it that she was no longer looking at him as a child would?
“Are you all right?” He came to her, gave her a brief, awkward hug, then stepped back.
The embrace was over so quickly it was almost as if it hadn’t happened at all. Erica felt the sting of tears in her eyes and inwardly groaned. She fought to hold those tears at bay as she asked, “I need to know something, Father, and I need the truth.”
“Of course.”
“Did you ever love me?”
“What kind of question is that?” His eyes narrowed and his scowl deepened. “Is this what they’ve been telling you in Colorado? Those Jarrods have been filling your head with nonsense and you’ve been listening?”
Shaking her head, Erica felt her heart sink. “They haven’t said a word about you, Father. This is something I need to know. Did you love me? Ever?”
His mouth tightened into a straight, grim line as if he were deliberately holding back the words she needed to hear.
Walking past him, she dropped her cream-colored leather bag onto the nearest chair, then turned to face him again. “I’m tired, Father. And hurt. And a little miserable, too. I’m finally figuring out who I am, but to finish doing that, I have to know who I was. Was I ever a daughter to you?”
As if all the air had left his body suddenly, Walter Prentice seemed to shrink in size right before her eyes. His shoulders slumped, his head dipped until his chin met his chest. Tiredly he lifted both hands to rub his face, then dropped them again and looked up at her.
She walked toward him, drawn by the naked pain on his face. Erica had never seen this side of her father. Never known him to be emotional at all. She took a shallow breath and held it.
“You’re more like your mother than you know, Erica. You have her beauty, but more important, you have her heart.” Leaning forward, he took her hands in his and held them gently. “I do love you, child. Always have. I couldn’t love you more if you were my own blood.”
A great weight eased off her heart and Erica took her first easy breath since walking into his office. “Then why? Why have you always kept me at a distance? Why would you never let me get close? You wouldn’t even let me work here, Father. I thought you believed I wasn’t good enough to join the family business.”
“Ah, God, I’ve made so many mistakes,” he muttered, his grip on her hands tightening. “But I swear they were made with the best of intentions. For years I was afraid that Don would try to take you from me, so I tried to keep an emotional distance from you. Fearing that if I did lose you, the pain would be too great to bear.” He sighed heavily. “Then the years passed and I kept you tucked away, out of the family business, to protect you from Don Jarrod.”
“What? That makes no sense.”
“It did to me. I was terrified that he’d come back, you see. Try to take you from me as he stole your mother. I couldn’t bear the thought of that.”
“Oh, Dad…”
He squeezed her hands. “Do you realize that’s the first time you’ve ever called me that? To you, I was always ‘Father,’ not ‘Dad.’”
Erica sighed and let go of the pain and misery she’d been carrying around for most of her life. Sad as it was, it was also sort of comforting to know that neither one of them had deliberately shunned the other. Mistakes had been made, true, but by both of them and for far too long.
Leaning into his warm embrace, she wrapped her arms around her
father’s neck and let the tears flow. He patted her gently and whispered words of comfort that were too soft for her ears to catch—but her heart heard and slowly began to heal.
“Are you happy out there?”
Erica sat across from her father and smiled. It was the first time she could ever remember her father being concerned with her happiness. But then, there had been a lot of firsts today. She felt lighter, freer than she had in years. She’d accomplished so much in just leaving, taking her own life in her hands. She’d found who she was meant to be. She’d reconnected with the father who had loved and raised her. And she had found—and lost—Christian.
Her smile faded, but she forced it back into place. “I really am. I know it’s strange. I can hardly believe it myself, to tell you the truth. But it’s so gorgeous there, Dad.” Funny how easily that name spilled from her now that she knew her affection was welcome. “I don’t just mean the resort, but Colorado itself. It’s huge and open and so beautiful it’s almost hard to look at it. I hope one day you’ll come to visit me there.”
Clearly uncomfortable at the thought, he was quiet for a moment, his brow furrowed and his eyes narrowed. “I’ll come. Don Jarrod’s ghost won’t keep me away from my daughter, Erica. I’m not going to risk losing you again.”
Her heart opened even further as love swept in, chasing away years of regrets and misery. “You won’t lose me, Dad. You can’t. I love you.”
He reached across the table and took her hand in his for a quick squeeze. “Does my heart good to hear that, I don’t mind telling you. But the most important thing is you’re happy, right?”
“I was….” How to explain to him what a mess she’d made of everything? She couldn’t actually confess to her father that she’d seduced a man who didn’t want her, after all. “What changed?”
She folded her linen napkin and set it on the table. Then sitting back in her chair, she said, “I fell in love.”
“And this makes you miserable?”
“No,” she said on a short laugh, “it made me happier than I’ve ever been before.”
“But…” Walter encouraged her to talk just by patiently waiting.
Smiling, she acknowledged, “You’ve still got the intimidation knack.”
“It’s a gift,” he said with a wink. “Now, tell me what’s wrong with this man that he doesn’t see what a wonderful girl you are.”
“There’s nothing wrong with him,” she said, Christian’s face rising up in her mind to taunt her. “He just doesn’t want me enough.”
“Well, why the hell not?”
“It’s complicated, Dad. I think he does care for me. But he won’t let himself.” Irritation spiked inside her and she had to take a deep breath just to calm herself. “So the question is, how am I supposed to live there and see him every day feeling the way I do?”
“What’s the alternative?” he asked briskly. “Run away? Hide? Pretend you don’t feel what you do?”
“I don’t know,” she whispered.
“Well, I do,” Walter said, standing to come around the table. He pulled her from her chair and stood her up in front of him. With the tips of his fingers, he tilted her chin up until she was looking directly into his eyes. “You’re a Prentice, Erica. And we don’t run. We don’t put our heads in the sand when things don’t go our way, either. If you love that dolt, then find a way to make him admit he loves you, too.”
Throwing her arms around his neck, she hugged him tightly and sighed when Walter’s arms came around her with a fierce embrace.
“I love you, Dad,” she whispered and his embrace tightened in response.
“I love you, too, little girl,” he whispered. “Guess you’ll be leaving right away?”
She pulled back and smiled up at him. “I really should. The gala opens next week and there are a million details to see to—not to mention the fact that there’s a certain man I have to see and talk to.”
“Do I get to know his name?”
“As soon as I straighten him out, I’ll introduce you,” she promised, then gave him an extra hug for good measure. Grabbing up her purse, she raced for the door, but stopped dead when her father called out her name. “Yes?”
He wagged a finger at her. “Just don’t you forget who you are, little girl. You’re Erica Prentice. My daughter. And you can do anything you put your mind to.”
She grinned at him. “You’re damn right I can.”
Christian refused to live like this any longer. He hadn’t seen or spoken to Erica in days. For all he knew, she could have decided to forego her inheritance and move back to San Francisco. That thought drove spikes through his mind and heart. What if she didn’t return? What if she decided that staying at Jarrod Ridge would be too painful because he was an idiot?
His stomach felt like a ball of lead had settled in it, while at the same time, his chest felt hollowed out. He scrubbed both hands across his face and stood up. Turning, he faced the window and didn’t even see the spectacular view. Instead, he saw Erica as she’d been their last night together by the river.
Naked, open, holding her arms out to him, taking him into her body, her heart. He could see the warmth in her eyes and the soft smile wreathing her face. His insides twisted and his mouth dried up. He loved her.
He loved Erica Prentice.
And he’d not only let her walk away, he’d been ass enough to ruin what had been the best damn night of his life. The question now was, was he going to let that mistake stand? Or was he going to do everything in his power to correct it?
“Screw this,” he said out loud to no one. He turned and looked around the interior of his office. The one he’d worked so hard for—and all he saw was emptiness. In his mind, his future stretched out in front of him and that, too, was empty. Pointless.
What the hell good was the job of his dreams if the woman he needed wasn’t a part of his life?
Furious with himself for taking this long to realize what was the most important thing to him, Christian jumped up from the desk chair and marched out of the room. He needed to talk to the oldest Jarrod sibling and he knew exactly where to find him.
Twenty minutes later, he was searching for Blake Jarrod amid the throng of people wandering around the site for the gala. The man was out here somewhere directing the crews setting up. When he spotted him, Christian headed right at him.
“Christian,” the other man said with a nod of greeting. “What are you doing out here? Giving up law to come swing a hammer with us?”
“No,” he said, barely glancing at the crew. “Blake, I need to talk to you.”
“Sure,” he said, heading to a less crowded part of the lawn. He stopped and crossed his arms over his chest. “What’s this about, Christian?”
The only way to handle this was to jump right in.
“I’m resigning as family attorney as of today,” Christian said and felt a weight slide off his shoulders. Damn, it felt good to be a free man. He’d been living an indentured life and he hadn’t even realized it until just this instant.
All along, he had thought he was steering his own course. Plotting his own life and destiny. But in reality, Don Jarrod had still been in charge. Even from the grave. But not anymore. And never again.
“What?” Astonished, Blake reached out, grabbed Christian’s upper arm and dragged him a little farther away to make sure no one would overhear them. “You can’t resign. Are you nuts?”
“Not anymore,” he said, grinning. “And yeah, I can resign. Watch me.”
“We can’t run this place without you, Christian!”
“Not my problem as of today, Blake. Sorry, but this is how it has to be.”
“Sorry?” Blake threw his hands high and let them slap down against his thighs. “You’re sorry that you’re walking out just as we all get back and have to deal with mountains of crap?”
“You’ve got each other. You’ll do fine. This is your home, Blake.”
“It’s your home as much as it is ours.”
“I’ll type up a formal letter and leave it with your assistant,” he said. “If you want, I can make some recommendations about who I think would work well here.”
“I don’t want your recommendations,” Blake muttered with a dark frown. “I want you here, doing your job. Like always.”
“Can’t do it, Blake,” Christian said. He wasn’t thinking about Blake. He was thinking about Erica. He had to tell Erica he loved her and that he was willing to risk everything in his life except her.
“You have to do it. We can’t afford to lose you.” Blake took a deep breath, bit back his frustration and demanded, “You’ve always been happy here, Christian. Where’s this coming from?”
“Things are different now.”
“Since when?” Blake’s eyes narrowed on him.
He hadn’t intended to say anything. But how could he not? Blake was a friend and the brother of the woman he loved. Why the hell should he hide his feelings now? He took a breath and plunged in.
“Since your sister.”
“Melissa?”
“No.” Christian laughed out loud at the stunned surprise on Blake’s face. Clearly he’d done a very good job of keeping his feelings to himself. “Erica.”
“Really?” Blake shook his head. “Huh. I didn’t have a clue.”
“Nobody does,” Christian told him. “That’s the point. I’ve been hiding how I feel about her because of my responsibilities here.”
“What?” Now Blake just looked confused. “Why would you do that?”
Christian sighed. “You know as well as I do how your father felt about what he called ‘fraternizing.’”
“Oh, for God’s sake—”
Christian kept going. “I get involved with your sister, I lose my position here and any shares I have in the company. The board of directors will take care of that at their next meeting.”
Claiming Her Billion-Dollar Birthright Page 13